


Les Folies D'Espagne

by ren_kuro



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Abusive Parents, Inspired by Music, Light Angst, Musical Instruments, kinda bokuaka
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:46:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27708548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ren_kuro/pseuds/ren_kuro
Summary: Keiji Akaashi was raised to be the perfect son. Quiet, respectful, intelligent, and all-around well behaved. However, there was an ugly truth of how that came to be. Bokuto, who wouldn't take no for an answer soon becomes aware of his friend's secrecy in regards to his very private home life.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	Les Folies D'Espagne

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by the song 'Les Folies D'Espagne' for flute, it's a beautiful piece, I recommend giving it a listen sometime.

He sat on the corner of his perfectly made bed. In one hand, he held his phone, and in the other, a book, open to the seventy-second page. His blue eyes were fixed on the bright glowing screen of his phone, which was being bombarded with messages from Bokuto.

“As I’ve already told you,” Keiji typed “I have a formal dinner tonight that I can’t get out of. I’m sorry, but I can’t hang out with you tonight. We’ll have to reschedule.”

Ever since he had arrived at school that morning, Bokuto had been pestering him about doing something together outside of school that evening. As much as Keiji hated not being able to go, he knew his parents wouldn’t have allowed it, regardless of the dinner they were hosting tonight. On top of that, today was one of the rare days in which Keiji’s father was not away on business. Although, some associates of his would also be joining the family of three for a meal, so in actuality, he was just bringing the business to the dinner table.

Keiji could hear the sharp tapping of the footsteps from his mother’s sleek heels approaching his room. Without waiting for a response from his upperclassman, he quickly turned off and pocketed his phone in his pocket and held the book in his left hand in front of his calm face, so as to look as if he was reading it this entire time.

Without knocking, his mother entered his room, dressed in formal attire. “Keiji, it’s time for you to join us at the dinner table, our guests and your father are waiting.” She announced. Keiji carefully closed the book and placed it gently upon his bedside table before standing up to follow his mother out of the room and into the hallway. As he walked, he straightened his dark gray slacks and adjusted the collar of his lilac-colored dress shirt.

Upon arriving at the grand staircase, his mother took one step down before halting and turning to her son. “Remember, don’t embarrass your father and I,” She reminded in a sharp tone. Keiji merely nodded.

“Yes ma’am.” He said robotically. Apparently satisfied with her son’s answer, she turned and continued her descent down the marble stairs and onto the main floor, Keiji following close behind.

As they sauntered over to the formal dining room, Keiji couldn’t help but pay close attention to how the clacking of his footsteps was being broadcast across the spacious room, the walls causing the sound to echo. His fingers tangled themselves together in a nervous manner, a habit he had picked up from years of anxiously sitting and waiting for his parents. It was something non-harmful and easy to hide under a table, perfect for the son of two high-status business people.

As they neared the large doors to the room in which they would be hosting the dinner, Keiji took a deep breath and straightened his posture. He knew his mother would scold him if she caught him slouching, especially in front of others. That was one of the ‘embarrassments’ she spoke of just a minute before.  
He opened the door for his mother while plastering a forced smile onto his features. This was nothing new to him, he’d done it many times before, and this was certainly not going to be the last time.

The guests looked up from their conversation with Keiji’s father to welcome the mother and son duo into the room.

“Good evening Mr. and Mrs. Ryuji, my name is Keiji, it is my pleasure to welcome you to our home,” Keiji greeted with a bow. It was what he said to every guest his parents had over, so it was almost robotic at this point.

“Please, the pleasure is all ours,” The woman spoke, “Come, sit, I’m sure you have many interesting things to discuss.” She seemed like a very kind woman, appearing to be about fifty or so judging by the slight gray tint to her otherwise chocolate brown locks. Her husband, who sat next to her, nodded along without a word, letting his wife do all the work.

Keiji and his mother made their way to the table to sit in their respective seats. His father always sat at the head of the table, to his right were his wife and son, and to his left, his guests.

“So, Keiji, how old are you?” Mr. Ryuji asked, trying to start some form of conversation. A maid appeared at Keiji’s side to fill his glass with chilled water before excusing herself back to where she came from.

“I’m seventeen,” He answered.

“My my, you’re growing so fast,” Mrs. Ryuji chimed in with a fond smile, “I remember when we first started going into business with your father, you were only about four years old.”

“My goodness, was it really that long ago?” His mother asked in response.

“I know, it’s hard to believe,” The other woman started, “But clearly, all that time has been kind to Keiji, he’s grown into a lovely young man.” She looked from his mother to Keiji himself, who was taking a sip of the water that had just been placed in the glass. However, something about her gaze shifted slightly. “I must wonder though,” She began, gaining the curiosity of the entire table, “Right now, there’s a sort of ‘dull mask’ in your eyes. What removes that mask? What’s your passion in life?” Keiji’s breath hitched ever so slightly in surprise. No one had ever asked him that, let alone someone he barely knew. He set down his glass, preparing an appropriate answer in his mind. Every part of him was screaming at him to say volleyball, but he knew very well how his parents thought of his participation in the sport. Scanning through the possibilities of his answer and how the others would react, he decided on going with the safe and obvious choice.

“Well, I suppose I would like to follow in my father’s footsteps and become a well-renowned CEO of a respectable company.” He answered with a slight gesture to his father. He had decided to throw in the ‘well-renowned’ and ‘respectable’ for show, merely to please his parents as much as he possibly could. Mrs. Ryuji did not seem convinced in the slightest, but fortunately for future-Keiji, she dropped it.

The dinner went smoothly and without much issue. At least until halfway through the main course. The housemaid discreetly walked through the door and waited for an opportunity to gain the attention of the family.

“Pardon the interruption, but somebody is at the door. He’s here to speak to Keiji.” The maid said while slightly bowing. Everyone in the room looked to Keiji, who was frozen in place. He ran through the scenarios in his head. It could just be someone from his school here to drop off something, maybe a piece of homework he had left behind? Or, it could be someone far more problematic. 

“Please excuse me for a moment,” He muttered, setting down his fork and moving the napkin from his lap to the clothed top of the large wooden table. The room was silent as he stood and followed the maid out. The awkwardness was practically oozing from the room he left. He knew he would get a nice, long lecture about this as soon as the guests departed. It didn’t really matter who was at the door at this point. If they asked for him, it was going to cause him trouble later on.

“I’m sorry,” The maid admitted as they walked to the front hall stiffly, “I tried to tell him you weren't available, but he just kept insisting on seeing you…” She apologized. She knew that Keiji was going to suffer because of this sooner or later.

“Don’t worry, You did all that you could.” He said with a slight smile before turning to the front door and opening it slightly so as to see who had interrupted him that evening. Of course, it was basically his worst fear in this particular situation. There stood Bokuto, clad in a t-shirt, black jacket, slightly ripped jeans, and Nike running shoes.

“Akaashi!” He exclaimed. Good thing Keiji’s house wasn’t super close to the neighbors lest they be disturbed by Bokuto’s natural loud volume. Keiji gracefully stepped through the door into the chilly evening air, closing the door gently behind him.

“Bokuto-san,” Keiji began fiddling with his fingers, anxious for what his parents were going to think if they found out he was here, at their front door. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, you said you had a dinner you couldn’t get out of, so here I am! To pick you up!” Bokuto explained.

“Bokuto-san, I can’t just-” He was cut off by the ace, who grabbed his wrist and started to pull him across the porch.  
“Come on!” He encouraged with a large smile. If anything, he saw his friend's hesitance as a sign to continue. 

“But-”

“Keiji? What’s going on here?” His mother called from the doorway. Keiji froze, his normally composed facade slipping just a bit as his eyes widened in fear. Bokuto however, wasn’t phased in the slightest. 

Without releasing Keiji’s wrist from his large, calloused hand, Bokuto saw this as the perfect chance to meet his friends' parents. “Hi, Mrs. Akaashi! My name’s Bokuto Kotarou, I’m the volleyball team captain,” He puffed out his chest and dramatically pointed himself, “And the ace!” He declared. Keiji still had his back turned to his mother, who he knew was most likely seething with anger by now. He was glad Bokuto hadn’t noticed his expression of anticipated terror plastered on his normally blank face. 

Keiji’s parents had made their stance on volleyball many times. They didn’t approve. He said he had quit the team a little over a year ago now, and he lied about staying after school to study more. Same with the days he had to go to games and such. He always said training camps were some sort of overnight study group with others of his rank. But now, there was no way he was making out of this without at least one scratch. 

“Nice to meet you, Bokuto-san,” The woman said, her voice full of venom. “But I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Bokuto deflated a bit. “But, Akaashi isn’t really needed, right? I thought it was just some business thing,” He said. He could feel Keiji’s arm stiffen in his grasp, but said nothing. The thin woman shifted her weight from one heel-clad foot to the other impatiently.

“Well, last time I checked, he is a part of this family, therefore, his presence is mandatory.” She argued.

“But why is it mandatory that he be there? He’s still in high school so he doesn’t have anything to do with your business…” Bokuto’s gaze shifted from the angry woman in the doorway to his companion beside him, seemingly frozen in midair in the exact position he was in when his mother had appeared. “Akaashi?” Bokuto mumbled, unsure of what was going on with his friend and why he wasn’t allowed to go and have fun with him.

It was then that Keiji finally regained his composure. Standing up straight and pivoting on his heels, his eyes darted from one person to another. Silently, he wished Bokuto would just leave before he made the situation worse. However, leave it to Bokuto to surpass expectations, in-game or not. “Come on, we can go play volleyball in the park,” The taller man suggested with a bright smile.

“Bokuto-san, maybe it would be best if yo-”

“Volleyball?” His mother interrupted, rage more than obvious in her tone. “I thought you quit that time-waster over a year ago,”

“Hey, it’s not a time waster!” Bokuto interjected. Keiji stepped closer to him and put a hand on his upper arm, gripping his jacket tightly in hopes that he would pick up the hint and stop making things worse. However, of course, he didn’t take it. He let go of Keiji’s wrist in order to move his arms around in exaggeration. “Volleyball is _awesome!_ Especially for me since I get to spike all the good sets Akaashi sends me and-”

“ _Leave._ ” The older woman said sternly.

“Mother, please, I can handle this-”

“You’ve made it quite clear that you can’t. Let’s go, we have people waiting. We’ll be having a _long_ discussion with your father about this later.” At that, Mrs. Akaashi moved forward swiftly and grabbed her son's shoulder, basically shoving him towards the door.  
“But-Wait, I don’t get why he has to be there. Or what you have against volleyball!” Bokuto all but shouted.

“You should learn some respect.” The woman scowled at Bokuto, despite being half his size.

“Mother-” Keiji began, only to be cut off with a sharp stab of pain on his left cheek. His mother had slapped him. Harshly, too.

“Stay out of this,” She hissed at her son. Keiji moved his palm to cover his now red cheek. He didn’t think there was anything he could do, so he hung his head in shame. There was a reason he never talked about his parents to the team or vice versa. “Inside, now Keiji,” His mother insisted. Before returning to the confines of the large house, he looked over his shoulder at a very shocked Bokuto. His jaw was dropped and his eyes blown wide.

“I’m sorry Bokuto-san, I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?” Before he could get a response from his friend, his mother abruptly pushed him through the doorway and slammed it shut.

She grabbed a handful of the soft fabric that made her son's shirt, using it to pull him down and be closer to her height. “Now, you are going to go upstairs, get out your flute, and practice until they leave, Understand? Under no circumstance will you make an appearance until your father and I meet you upstairs to discuss your punishment.” She released her grip on his shirt, pushing him back slightly as she did so.

Keiji still had a palm covering part of his face. He stepped forward a couple of times before stopping and looking back. His eyes flashed from his seething mother to the locked door, and back to his mother. “ _Go_.” She demanded. Hesitantly, he made his way up the stairs. He wanted to stomp as hard as he possibly could on each and every step in retaliation, but he didn’t even want to know what would await him if he did that. Only when he was just outside the door to his room did his mother turn and start walking back to the dining hall.

He flicked on the light, covering the previously dark room in artificial sunshine. After gently closing the door behind him, he shuffled over to the other side of the room, digging his hands in his pockets and throwing his phone on his bed without bothering to look at it. He hastily knelt down and grabbed the case that held his perfectly shined flute and quickly assembled the pieces. The stand was already set up, complete with four or five sheets of music sitting upon it. He shot up to stand to his full height, flute already held high. Without wasting even a second, he began to play the song. _Les Folies d'Espagne._ A piece he had been working on for the past week.

One note after the other. Faster, faster, faster. His mind was racing. How could he let this happen? _Why_ did he let this happen? Faster, faster, he could go faster.

After the eighth measure, he stopped to take a sharp breath. Something from the corner of his eye caught his attention, however.

It was his phone, glowing from the newest missed call from Bokuto along with the several other missed calls, as well as a string of texts, all from him. Keiji stood completely still, holding his breath, not moving a muscle. Just when he thought he was going to pass out from lack of oxygen, he exhaled heavily, only to inhale and exhale again many times over. His eyes stung like they had been open for too long. He blinked once before the tears started to gather.

Lowering the flute, he stood there stiffly for just a moment more before collapsing in on himself. Keiji hugged the instrument to his chest tightly as he settled onto his knees. Balling his fists and tightening his jaw as much as he possibly could, a silent tear made its way down his smooth skin.

Why was he crying? Why was this what pushed him over the edge and falling into the deafening silence of pain? He could name a number of things. Maybe it was Bokuto showing up, or his mother finding out about his secret volleyball outings, possibly it was the fact that his own mother had slapped him across the face so casually and without a second thought. He knew he was never going to hear the end of this. Not only will his parents be on his case every moment they had to spare, but he just knew Bokuto would keep pestering him and insisting to help somehow. Bokuto would almost certainly end up spilling tonight's events to the team as well. Was it even a team he was a part of anymore? Not after the dinner is over and his parents have something to say about it.

Keiji couldn't wrap his mind around why his mother and father were so against the sport. He still maintained top-of-the-class marks on every single one of his assignments. He still knew how to shut up and be a perfect model son at work-related events. He could even still keep up with the difficult sheets upon sheets of music they gave him to play. Why were they so adamant that he does absolutely nothing for his personal enjoyment?

If either of his parents were to see him in the state he’s currently in, they would scoff and proceed to lecture him on how pathetic it was to show such ‘silly’ emotions. They would tell him to get up and stop acting like a fool. They would tell him to stop being an embarrassment. That’s what they had always done. As a child, Keiji learned early on that crying was a big no-no. Over time, it seemed he had almost lost the _ability_ to express how he felt. But sometimes, the glass just became overfilled and something slipped out.


End file.
